


Vegas Lights

by TrashPandaPal



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Major Character Undeath, Major Original Character(s), Multi, Slight Violence, more to be tagged kiddos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2018-12-27 19:21:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12087690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrashPandaPal/pseuds/TrashPandaPal
Summary: francesca was a confusing child.she was always hurt, bruises littering her tanned skin, cuts circling her ankles.and yet..she was always bright. a beacon shining in a sea of burnt out lights.until her light went out.





	1. Chapter 1

The day Frankie died, her father was too drunk to know, and her mother was long gone, off in Salt Lake City. So there was no funeral.  
No roses or lilies.

No mumbling, weeping procession.

No loud pastor, crying out to the cloudy October heavens, "What a life that's been taken!"

None of that for Frankie. Just a small pit of dead leaves and wet soil, a silent body laying under a gauzy tarp.

Blue hair spiraling in ringlets like small snakes around her head, tan limbs sprawled out, a smile stretched on cold lips.

Trina bites her lip and grimaces. The panic and hushed voices, the tears and "Please! I know her, let me through!", and the flashing lights of police cruisers that carted Frankie's father away, all came flooding back. Trina wipes away tears and pushes pack a strand of hair.

"Uh, h-hey Frankie, I know you can't hear me but, uh- fuck this is so stupid!- here are some lilacs..." Trina kneels and places the lilacs at the edge of her grave. Before sighing and looking down, "They were always your favourite, so, uh, here we are!"   
Trina scuffed the soggy dirt with the toe of her boot, shrugging.

She stood there for another half hour, until the street lights clicked on, and Trina turned away, kickling a leg over her motorcycle and driving away.  
-  
Frankie didn't know what to do.

She was suspended, a gauzy tarp hanging of her mostly bare body, her moonlit backyard looking serene in the late October dark.

Startled, she yelped, and twisted around. There, behind her, were powerful, delicately feathered, wings. They were strong and glorious, flapping gently.

Frankie was a polar opposite of graceful.

Immediately, she twisted and fell, landing with a thump on her roof, scrambling to get up.   
Frankie turned her eyes to the heavens where the moon seemed to smile down at her warmly, offering her a gentle hand to pull herself up.

And up she went. Soaring, the clouds rippled through those wings like a small current, her body shooting throught the air.

And in those few seconds, she forgot tge pain, she forgot the yelling, she forgot the terrible black numbness to which her body had succumb only mere hours ago.

Frankie's chains were broken, and she was finally free, free to sing and ply, to laugh and cry, emotions she'd hidden away, all to get someone to love her. Freedom seeping into her, she whooped, a cry as proud as can be.

Then, off she flew into midnight, reckless and headstrong, charging a new world head on.


	2. Chapter 2

perched on a building, samuel watched the fledgling dart about, clumsy on her downy wings. she was giggling with every loop de loop she did, and seemed wonderfully pleased with herself. samuel considered that an impressive feat, given that her wings were a pastel pink, and her legs were scabbed.

not to mention, she was only in a hospital gown.

amused, he sat back, watching her tumble across the sky.

finally, he decided to fly over, his vermillion wings beating the air mercilessly. 

"you! fledgling! what's your name?" samuel called out, and the girl stilled, her wings puffed up in a pathetic attempt to hide herself.

"...you can see me?" she asked, turning around, revealing brilliant emerald eyes and navy blue curls.

they looked at each other in silence, two angels above a neon city, the sound of honking horns and wings beating filled the crisp air.

"francesca.." came a small reply, "lilac! francesca lilac. that's it. my name." 

samuel grinned and offered her his arm, "samuel lovecraft. charmed, by the way, my lady. let's explore, shall we?"  
-  
frankie flew ahead, the artic air buffeting her face, and she smiled.

boy, was she glad that samuel had found her, and let her borrow some of his clothes.

the shirt smelt of pine wood, coffee and something deadly. frankie figured this was his "hunting" shirt, as he had mentioned having to fight for his meals.

up ahead, his quiver lay against his back, a constant reminder of his abilities, then, two wings stretched out. angled like a bid of prey's, they were perfect for diving to snatch things and quickly pull up. quite unlike her own wings, which were fluffy and large, but wouldn't stay that way forever according to samuel. she flapped them, enjoying the muffled sounds of them moving through the air.

frankie sucked in a breath, and tried to remember why she was here.  
oh. right. apparently 'certain persons' were 'impressed and intrigued' with her 'tinely appearance'. 

whatever that meant.

now, she had to meet said people. and for some reason, she wasn't all too thrilled about it.  
-  
"cupid! man of love, what is so urgent?" boomed a voice, and frankie tensed up, her wings shooting up to cocoon her.

samuel laughed, his tone tense, "this is francesca lilac, she seems to be a part of," he gestures vaguely, "..you know."

frankie slowly lets her wings unfold, and looks up at a mountain of a man smiling at her expectantly, and she turns to samuel, fidgeting with a stray feather.

samuel catches her eye and gives her a dmall nod, and she takes a deep breath.

"hello there," she gave a half smile, and got a wild grin in return.

"come. the others would love to meet you."

frankie walks into the main hall and all her breath leaves her. her jaw drops, and she's pretty sure samuel is sniggering at her dumbfounded look.

stretching in front of her, was several thousand yetis, working on a several million toys, there were things whirling around her, and she whipped around to see them all, her mouth an 'o'.

"pretty amazing, ain't it.." an accented voice came from behind her, and she yelped, her wings puffing up in suprise.

"oh, shoot. didn't mean to startle you, mate," frankie looked up, "i'm bunny. the easter bunny." the bunny was tall, and gray with stranger markings then she'd ever seen, she opened her mouth to say something but was cut off by a drawling voice, coming from the ceiling.

"hey, kangaroo. don't intimidate her with the james bond shit, man." a white haired boy touched down from where he was perched and walked towards them, "name's frost. jack frost." the boy says, in an exaggerated version of the bunny's accent.

a fluttering presence filled her personal space and fingers were in her mouth suddenly, and a woman's voice was dancing around her head. "look at that! she flosses regularly, oh and only 4 cavities? not bad! she's had braces-"

"tooth. fingers out of mouth." the broad man from before said, amusement in his eyes.

frankie stumbled back, next to samuel who was silently laughing at her plight. she glared at him, and then looked towards them.

"no.. way.." her mouth dropped open, and she pointed to each of them in turn, "the easter bunny, the tooth fairy, santa claus?! and jack frost, oh and, sandman..?" frankie asked, unsure. the silent gold man nodded and tipped his hat. she smiled at him.

stepping back, her wings involuntarily stretched out, "who are you people?" frankie asked, in quiet awe.

"we," north put his hands on her shoulders, and gestured around, and frankie took it all in, all the fantastical scenes of childhood, dancing in her eyes like hidden galaxies, north stepped away and raised his arms, "are the guardians."

-


	3. Chapter 3

samuel watched as frankie bit her lip, concentrating on the string she was unraveling. the two children were playing peacefully, the sunday afternoon beginning to reach down to close drowsy lids.

"sheila.." yawned the small, pigtails sporting girl, clenching and unclenching her hands in the sand.

"yeah, sita?" came the blonde haired girl's distracted response, cor she was quite invested in the castle she was building.

"we.... we, we're always gonna be best friends, ok?" sita grunted, and frankie laughed softly, looping the pale string around the child's little pinkie, and turned to sheila.

"of course, dummy! who else is gonna help me act out sleeping beauty? not the boys, ew!" sheila giggled, brushing her bangs away with one sandy hand, frankie practically beamed and slid the other loop onto sheila's pinkie.

the two girls run off, singing about princes and castles, and a sleeping girl, far away in a silent kingdom. samuel smiled fondly, perching in the tree. he chucked an acorn at frankie.

she whipped around so fast, she smacked her wings against the trunk of the tree, samuel kept his smug expression.

"sammy!" she whisper-screamed, "what're you doing here?!" she fluttered up to his branch, rolling up the string.

"thought i'd suprise you, today's important, after all." samuel hummed, leaning back, arms cushioning his head. frankie kicked her legs and looked at the ground.

"what's so important about today?" she asked, watching the children run around in the grass, giggling.

samuel snorted. "well, today's only the world's greatest love guardian's birthday.."

"oh happy birthday!!" frankie smiled, fingers combing through her hair.

samuel sits up, "frankie.."

"if i'd known, i would've thrown something together," she laughed awkwardly, "but, uh, i didn't-"

"frankie."

"i'm sorry about that," she continued, "but we can do something now-"

"frankie!"

he's grabbed her hands and she's quiet, looking at him with wide eyes. he lets go and whispers a sorry.

"it's your birthday.." he says, searching her face for any signs of recognition, finding none, he prompts her again, "y'know.. cake? parties?"

she hugs her knees, and sighs. "i never had a birthday. my dad told me i never needed one."

samuel's heart cracked, and he puts a hand on her shoulder. "i'm sorry.."

frankie smiled thinly. "it's not your fault."

samuel put a hand in her feathers and she put a hand in his. they sat on that branch, leaning into each other and just enjoying the afternoon.

"i promise you, that your birthday matters." samuel said, frankie looked up at him curiously.

"it's the day my little sister was born," her murmured, "and the day that the broken winged angel, fell from heaven, and into you." frankie hummed and closed her eyes.

"you matter."

frankie peered up at him. "thank you."

for some number of minutes, a comfortable silence fell over them.

"you're an angel too, samuel." she said, her voice quiet.

he laughs wryly.

"love is rarely kinder than death, darling."

frankie shakes her head. "not you, _chettan_.."

"not you."

 


	4. Chapter 4

  
"so," samuel asked, unwrapping his ice cream sandwich bar, and taking a bite before asking frankie, "if you had to choose between flying through snow, rain, or sleet, what would you choose?" he crosses his legs, which are hanging off the top of a new jersey apartment complex.

frankie takes a lick of her fudgsicle and thinks for a minute. a chocolate smudge on her left cheek dripping, he reached over and wiped it with his thumb, sending them both into fits of giggles.

she wiped at her cheek, sighing, "rain! it's so soothing and wonderful."

samuel grins, "amen to that."

she sits back on her palms, the afternoon was lazy and filled with beeping cars and children shouting and goofing off as they headed home.

a weirdly potatoey smell rose up, and frankie squealed, tumbling off the building, grabbing samuel.

"woah- where are you going?" he called, watching pale wings beat the air as they flew off. he laughed softly at her twirlimg antics.

"aloo tikki! down there!" she swoops and lands, pulling her wings flush to her body, frankie slips into the dimly lit, hole-in-the-wall shop.

inside soft sitar and a quiet singer crooned in tamil, singing of the 'tides of love' and how to sweep others away. frankie watches mesmerized. there's this peaceful look in those brilliant emerald eyes, and suddenly she hurries to the kitchen, watching the cooks bustle and shout orders.

he grabs her elbow.

"hey there stranger," he grins and she grins back, "care to explain what we're doing in a desi kitchen?"

"i'm missing home." she sighs solemly, "let's get some potato cutlet!"

mostly everyone believes in true love. if they don't, they believe in the fires of passion, a person, who samuel... admired in more ways than one.

people could see him, and his other counterparts. but not frankie, weirdly. she doesn't notice or mind, as much. she was always to busy dreaming.

samuel steps up amd orders, frankie whispering how to pronounce the names, he raised his eyebrow like, "i've been on this planet for over 800 years, hon, i know what im doing."

the cashier smiles and tilts his head side to side, while he takes their order, and it's hard to say whether samuel's charming personality or awkwardly natural pheromones are affecting the guy.

-

they walk along, biting into the cutlet, and letting the spices dance on the roof of their mouths.  
  
the sun has set, and they're breathing the fresh air and listening to a chorus of honking and the buskers playing jazz.

frankie's eyes were lit up like the empire state, and every breath was a quiet gasp as she took everything in, her grin as wide as her wingspan.

samuel smiles fondly and she links arms with him.

"shall we go dancing then?" frankie asked, windblown curls dishevled.

he grins a cheshire grin, and laughs, "we shall, my lady!"

they run off to the nearest club, Starfall Lovers.

-

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Frankie was giddy and giggly, swirling through the morning air like a ballerina on a stage, today she was vistiting Trina, her friend from before she was a guardian. Trina was.... beautiful. She had this lovely laugh and shining gray eyes. Her waistlength hair was always perfectly tousled, like she had spent an hour fixing it (she does). Trina was always kind to her, especially when her parents weren't...

  
laughing, she landed and shook her wings, fluffing them up.

  
Looking around, the neighbourhood wasn't any diffrent from when Frankie had lived there, the same spaced out Colonial houses with white porches and swinging screen doors. The mist creeping through the streets made everything ghostly and abandoned. a dog barked and someone shushed it loudly. She ran down the street, and didn't get farther then two pumps of her legs before she fell facefirst into some leaves.

  
' _stupid_!' she chided herself, ' _i need to tie my shoes..'_

  
finally, she reached the beige and burgundy home, and stepped up onto the porch. Gizmo, their cat, sat on the porch swing, and didn't flick an ear in her direction.  
Ignoring that, she rapped at the dark red door three times, and rang the bell, her wings rustling behind her. Frankie waited, and waited, until she turned to go to the back door, knowing they kept that unlocked.

  
Pushing open the door, Frankie called out, "Hey, Trina!"  
she padded up the carpet stairs and up to Trina's room, finding the door open.  
The black haired girl was on the bed, typing furiously.

  
On the screen, was a journal post.. or something.. it was bout Frankie.  
Frankie tilted her head, trying to read it.

  
**_Francesca Lilac is a coward. She never had the guts to stand up to her parents, not after i would tell her it was the only thing that would help. No, she killed herself. That girl took her own life instead of doing something about her condition. So, I personally have no sympathy. Her life wasn't hers to take.._ **

  
"Trina? This is a joke, right?"

  
"Trina? Answer me, goddammit!"

Frankie's voice cracked, the zebra bedspread growing blurry.  
Frankie looked to her friend desperately, needing proof that her friend was really Trina. Not some clone, from like, mars or something.

  
Trina's normally blank face held a haughty scowl, the look was marred by the liquid slipping down her face and seeping into the bedsheets.

  
"Trina...." Frankie looked worried. She reached out her hand to hold Trina's, but with a high pitched hum, Frankie's hand passed through Trina's in a flash of soft pink.

  
Frankie was distraught, tears pouring down her face. "No... no, no, no, no.." she muttered, she turned and ran, stumbling down the stairs and outside. Her wings fluttering feebly.

  
She tried to take off. Oh, god, how she tried, but ended up a small, crumpled figure in the dewy grass. Blank eyes stared at the sky and guiltly registered a man with vermillion and royal purple wings, touching down and enveloping her in those wings.

  
"Oh, my stardust child," mumbled a warm tenor voice, a lock of hair was pushed behind her ear gently, "What happened, little one?"

  
she sniffed, "You-you aren't older b-by a lot, brother.."

  
He laughed into her hair and Frankie's mind chanted, _safe, safe, safe._

  
"Trina," she gestured to the house and to a girl whose back was to the window, "can't see me. I-I tried everything!"

  
Cupid's unnaturally opalescent eyes glinted with something sad. "I'm afraid that happens, love. A child no longer believes, and then-" he gestures to the girl as well, aiming a harsh glare at her, "they can't see you."

  
Frankie whimpered and clutched onto Cupid, and he let her, rocking ever so slightly, two angels, fallen from grace onto a lawn somewhere in Detriot.

  
Finally, Frankie rises, blinking away tears. She laughs mirthlessly, and turns to Cupid, her eyes too cold and sharp to be the forest green irises he knew. They were cut emeralds, fragile and harsh. "Let's go, brother, children elsewhere need me."

  
She shoots a fire filled gaze at the house, that softens too a needy, broken, child's face. He could see her desire. her desire was to be desired, to be loved and to love back

  
Then she shoots up, hurtling across the blue sky, tears pouring down her face.  
it stung. But nothing hurts more, then disappearing from a life that you could've shared with others.

 


End file.
